


Valerian and the Secret of the Star-Child

by AdaSonata



Category: Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets (2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 21:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15693306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdaSonata/pseuds/AdaSonata
Summary: The secret of the Star Child, a child who holds the key to the secrets of life itself. It is said that the child is responsible for the different manifestations of power among the many species both known and unknown. Is the Star Child real? Or is it the fantasies of a long dead life form? Its up to Major Valerian and Sergeant Laureline to find out.





	1. Prologue – Prelude to a Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a fan-fiction story of the movie version of: ‘Valerian and the city of a thousand planets,’ and is in no way affiliated with the actual movie or original comic series. All characters and other materials related to the movie/series that have been used are not intended to infringe on any Copyrights. Elemental-Zer0 takes sole responsibility for any mistakes or offence that may be taken but truly not meant. However, any characters that are not related to any copyrights are copyrighted to Elemental-Zer0 as is any variations to the plot set out in the show/series. 
> 
> A/N: So, I’d put off watching the movie for a while… had it on my watchlist but never really felt the hype to watch it. Man was I missing out! So hooked! And although I thought the actor playing Valerian looked a little ill, it kind of added to the charm of the character. He appeared vulnerable in a way that wasn’t obvious. I loved the characters relationships and Laureline’s character was a breath of fresh air compared to most female sidekick roles. 
> 
> So, I just had to add my own flair to the universe. I’m not an elite fan of the original comic series (mainly due to ignorance of its existence until a few minutes ago), so if I get something horribly wrong please let me know. I did do some preliminary research, but I was too impatient to write. So, I may have missed a few key things. That said, I’m sure I may need to change a few things anyway for my plot to work. So please bear with me.

** Prologue – Prelude to a Nightmare **

* * *

 

It happened so fast.

Her breath caught in her throat. The blood in her veins turned to ice and her stomach dropped through the ground.

Her heart almost stopped in her chest.

“Valerian…” She barely whispered. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes, but she was unaware of them. She couldn’t move, daren’t move, in case the image before her became real.

“No…” She breathed, denial warring with her need to see him, to believe he was there, but also not there.

Her need to touch him; to be next to him; to know his fate for definite overruled all other emotions fighting to control her behaviour, and she ran to him through the medically starched white corridor and into the contamination prevention chamber that he taken charge of securing.

He’d done his job well. Too well.

Impervious to physical attack and designed to withstand even a lethal blast from her gun, the glass protection walls were unyielding to her desperate attempts to get into the radiation chamber. She was suddenly aware that she was screaming his name and failing to break in by any other means, she found herself futilely pounding on the glass. His tired, sweaty face absently rolled its way to her general direction, his movements jerky and tired. His body twitching without his knowledge or consent. Half lidded blue eyes darted in her general direction until she saw him actively try to focus on her. He was fading from her.

“Valerian…” She sobbed as she sank to his level of sight. He was on his back; glass beakers had shattered on the floor around him. Strange and colourful liquids had formed various puddles underneath him and he had a large cut on his temple, the blood tracked from under his hairline. He’d gone down fighting, like the true soldier that he was. Another body lay in a crumpled heap to his left but on the outside of the glass wall. It was wearing a lab coat and was clearly bigger than her Major but in a gangly way.

The Bioweapon Terrorist; Dr. Maricone Drokonicus.

He’d been an investigative field biologist of foreign alien life forms. He was a genius in his field, had been a respected and intelligent member of the scientific population. His team was usually the one asked for to determine and catalogue new life forms on planets that were only just now being discovered. However, after one particular field assignment to a previously declared uninhabited planet; a small planet in the Icosia Nebula, catalogued as Planet il’Yu-na’Taria in the constellation PX37, he’d started acting erratically and had claimed to have found the source of all life; something many scientists and theologists were still arguing over its existence. However, all other visits to the planet had returned no signs of life and nothing to suggest any information about the source of all life had been present.

Suspecting that perhaps the doctor had taken any information related to this supposed artefact, Major Valerian and Sergeant Laureline had been assigned to find out what the man was up to and what information they could retract from him. The two began their mission by gathering as much known data as they could on the current affairs of the doctor. It was at this point, they’d come across Dr. Drokonicus’ research notes, which had said that he needed a compatible specimen to test his theories out on, but the Ethics and Moral Code of Authority (EMCA) had turned him down when his madness had become apparent. However, it seemed that this had not deterred the man from finding a way to find his specimen. His notes continued to elaborate that an unknown and new chemical that he’d found on the planet would help him find something called “the Star Child” and that he was being encouraged by a sentient voice that kept speaking to him from the stars to use it in a very densely populated area to see if the “Star Child” would show itself. All evidence showed that the man had lost touch with reality and was talking to things that weren’t there. His erratic behaviour had put him in a mental institute for his own safety, but the man had proven determined and had escaped the hospital and had been seen making suspicious purchases; the combinations of which were deduced by other scientists to be dangerous concoctions that were quite possibly lethal to a vast majority of the species living on Alpha.

That had lead Major Valerian and Sergeant Laureline to this facility where Dr. Drokonicus had broken into and had taken the whole building into lockdown, trapping various workers in the facility with him. Including Sergeant Laureline herself, and the Major.

They’d snuck inside and had managed to evacuate most of the building, Laureline taking charge of guarding and guiding evacuees while Valerian swept the area for their would-be terrorist. It was on the fiftieth floor when they’d found him. Laureline had been guiding one group of workers toward the emergency stairway and advising them to follow her markers to the makeshift exit while Valerian had been sweeping the corridor behind her. He’d finally reached the last door at the end of the corridor when they unexpectedly opened of their own accord and revealed the scientific chamber behind them.

Laureline had just enough time to look over before the doctor moved and slapped his hand down on the detonation button in a panic. Her fast-acting reflexes of shooting him with her stun blast hadn’t been quick enough to stop him from activating the bioweapon. It had only been Valerian’s reactive reflex to hit the contamination sealing emergency button that had contained the release of potentially toxic contagion that had saved the denizens of Alpha, but in doing so he’d left himself open to attack from the doctor’s concealed weapon. He’d taken the hit to the head and it had knocked him backwards into the contamination chamber just as it sealed itself shut.

It happened so fast...

She knelt on the floor trying unsuccessfully to attract his dazed gaze as he searched for her. His eyes finally found hers, they were tired, glazed, and unfocussed but he knew who she was and gave her a tired, apologetic smile.

“…m’s… ‘ry…” He’d managed to breathe out before his whole body started falling slack. The onset of the contagion was slow, his legs twitched less and less, his arms slowed their jerky movements and his breathing laboured to fading gasps. She lay on her side, tears sliding down the side of her face while she held her hand pressed up against the glass wall that separated her from him. It was a gradual thing; watching his eyes slowly dim as the life inside him flickered and fought but ultimately failed to stay alight. He eventually fell utterly still; his eyes staring lifelessly at her; that stupid grin on his face… his own tears, falling no more.

Her vision blurred, and she convulsed in to agonising sobs as her partner, her commanding officer… and her friend, faded from this world.

He’d left her behind.

For good this time.


	2. Chapter One: The Sonata of Passing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, this idea came to me quite suddenly. I’m not very good with writing “subtle wakings” or feelings when it comes to unconscious people or people grieving. Everyone grieves differently, and I felt the “Suddenly-takes-an-unexpected-breath” scenario far too cheesy for the emotions rolling around in this fic. Let me know what you think… is it too slow? Too dramatic? Too unrealistic?

**Chapter One:** _The Sonata of Passing_  

* * *

The days passed by in a blur of slow motion and tears. Laureline couldn't have told you what the date was even if she'd had a calendar in front of her. Her life had turned into one big hazy ball of confusion and hurt.

She'd been relieved of active duty for now, she could barely function at the bare minimum to ensure her own survival let alone performing anything work related. The new General understood this and advised that she take as long as she needs to get herself back together. 

It was with stark reluctance that she attended the funeral. She'd been forced to go with the General who hadn't taken no for an answer. He’d prattled off some excuse about getting closure and regretting a missed opportunity to say goodbye, or some such drivel. She hadn’t paid close attention to his well-meaning-but-also-heart-wrenching words. The only ‘closure’ she wanted to get was a few hours alone with the insane doctor who’d caused all of her suffering in a locked room and a ‘do-not-disturb-even-if-you-hear-screaming’ sign on the door. However, her obligation to her… she faltered, ‘fallen’ partner was too great a responsibility to ignore, and so it was with a great deal of effort that she forced herself to walk up to the Chapel pod doorway that housed the religious sanctuary that was attached to the military base on Alpha. 

Over the many years that had apparently passed, one thing had mostly resembled the same; religion. The Human Military had a majority belief in Christianity which had somehow survived the Space-Age Revolution. That is to say it wasn’t without some modifications; for instance, hallowed earth and cemeteries were no longer in use in the Space station for obvious reasons. And stone built ornate gothic churches were a little difficult to build without the right resources or infrastructure to support the weight, even with gravity being as flexible as it was in Alpha. Many things within the religious architect had evolved, more specifically the context of many bible verses and the idea of heaven being a city in the clouds and hell being an underground cavern of fire. Now-a-days, these were no longer taken as a literal meaning but more of a metaphorical belief. Some even speculated that the heaven and hell depictions were housed in a different dimension rather than a manifestation in this reality. It was theorised that if one did not sin or if they repented any sins they had enacted, they wouldn’t die and go to heaven. Instead, they’d simply be pulled into the heaven dimension where their physical body was reset to that of its optimal function. The same with hell, except your worst sins were reflected upon your body and no relief was offered. 

There were many varied evolutions of Christ’s story now, but the fact remained that Christianity had not withered with the new age. Even with the changes, it was a strong religious belief that gave strength to many convictions of peace and kindness. Excluding of course the radical extremists of the ancient past – which could be said of most earth-based religions. 

It was an odd sensation for Laureline. Having been plucked from the past, it was strange for her to witness the changes. In her birth time period, Christianity had only been around for a relatively short time (taking in to calculation how far into the future she’d travelled, that is). The teachings were fairly new and primitive in her village and it was strange having to now witness the evolution it had become. Having said that, Laureline was more of a pagan, a religion that had scarcely made it to the history books of this era’s schooling curriculum. Few were even aware it had ever existed and often found it curious when she did something out of character for the time period she’d found herself in. She couldn’t help it, it was automatic for her. For example, the throwing of spilt salt over ones left shoulder, or sweeping gestures to ward off unwanted attention or negative emotions. 

She didn’t consider herself overly religious but standing before the chapel bay doors she wished she had been more astute, for none of her practiced or familiar odes of prayer or blessing could ward off the sense of utter loss and isolation that had enshrouded her like an old deceitful friend. Her legs were shaking, her heartbeat deafened her to the general cadence of murmured condolences and sorrows, and the world grew foggier by the minute. 

A gentle tap on her arm brought her somewhat back to reality and she found the General holding her steady with a gentle hold on her elbow. She’d been swaying apparently, and had looked as unsteady as she’d felt. 

“Come on Sergeant.” He said gently to her, “You can do this.” He encouraged. Tears welled up in her eyes and she gripped his arm in a swell of emotion. 

“I can’t…” She tried but the breath was taken from her before she could finish. Sobs sealed her throat before they could escape properly, and she almost folded in on herself, but the General supported her weight easily and held her standing tall. 

“You _can_ do this Laureline.” He repeated, “You once told me you could do anything for that boy.” He added in a hushed tone. People around them were trying not to stare and those who did look over had varying degrees of sympathy and empathy in their eyes. “You can do this one last thing for him.” He said ignoring their eyes and looking down at the now frail looking timeless girl. “For Valerian.” 

She sniffed and slowly soaked in his words. He was right, she owed Valerian this final witness to his existence. Gradually he felt her weight lift as she managed to stand on her own two feet again. Her back straightened, her head rose higher and though she had tears running freely down her cheeks, she stood with a strong-willed expression upon her face. The General was right; she would do anything for her sweet, oblivious Valerian. And if that meant facing his funeral service and honouring him the only way this era could allow her to, then damnit that’s what she’d do! It was the least she could do. 

She found the General’s eyes and with a slightly wavering nod, she released his grip and faced the doors. They opened for her. Mentally bracing herself, she carefully -but purposefully- stepped inside the sanctity of the Chapel. 

* * *

The Service was… mundane. It would have bored Valerian to the point of snoring and she could just imagine the roll of his eyes if she’d jabbed him awake. She squeezed her eyes shut at the thought and it made her angry that he’d left her like this. He was supposed to look after her, coach her, teach her about this time period. He was the one who’d taken her and had ruined her chances of ever being accepted back in her own village, the one he’d taken her from in 11th century Earth. 

She forcibly smoothed her fists out and tried valiantly to calm her nerves down. She shook her head at herself; even in death, he could still incite her wrath. 

She avoided looking at the coffin; the protocol here was always an open coffin unless the deceased was beyond gruesome to behold. Some soldiers she’d attended the funerals for had barely had anything left of a body to say goodbye to. And for some others, even though the coroners had done everything they could to sew bits and pieces back together, it still wasn’t enough to fairly display what was left for grieving friends and family. That hadn’t been the case with Valerian. He had passed with nary a scratch on him. And looking at him, it was difficult to really believe he was even dead. His skin hadn’t dulled or lost its colour like most corpses did; his hair still looked glossy and fluttered in the slight wind from the ventilation shaft just behind the dais where his coffin lay. 

Inevitably, Laureline found herself glancing up at the coffin. Watching him now, she could imagine he was just sleeping. Eyes softly closed against the world; long dark lashes sweeping across pinkish cheeks; deep slow breaths carelessly raising his chest slightly; nose wrinkling in his sleep at a stray dream… 

Her breath caught in her throat. She was imagining all of that… wasn’t she? Her grip found the General’s arm and she felt him turn to look at her, then follow her gaze. A few haunting moments passed by and she hardly dared to breathe. 

His sharp intake of air was enough to solidify reality for her. _She wasn’t imagining it._  

“Oh my god…” the General scarcely uttered in a state of disbelief and it was just the trigger she needed to _go_ to her partner. She _moved_ , and even she didn’t know how she did it, but she was by the coffin in _seconds_ , ignoring all the startled gasps and cries of confusion as she fell to her knees on the wooden dais. 

She desperately and yet so carefully touched her shaky fingers to his mouth. 

His skin was lukewarm and a soft, barely-there breath of warm air brushed against her fingertips, and he _shivered_. She heard someone, probably the General, call for a medical team but she paid him no heed. She only had eyes for her Valerian. Her impossibly dear, apparently immortal, thick-headed, stubborn-to-a-fault, Major Valerian. 

His eyes twitched, his mouth parted by a fraction and his head turned by a millimetre toward her. Even unconscious he knew she was there right by his side, where she vowed again to all the deities that had ever or will ever exist, she would always be. 

“Valerian…” She barely dared to breathe it lest the vision she beheld shattered and her world be torn asunder again. She didn’t think she’d survive it a second time. A scarcely perceptible hum of his voice found her ears and she found herself smiling a watery smile. His eyes shifted under his eyelids and he moved his head again, just that little bit further toward her voice. “Come back to me, Valerian.” She whispered, tears falling intermittently from her own eyes as she fought to focus on his face, not wanting to miss the slightest twitch of waking. His eyes flickered again before a sliver of brilliant blue found the gap between his dark, sweeping eyelashes. 

Her heart almost burst; he’d opened his eyes. 

His focus was shot to hell, she could tell from how dilated his iris’ were and how one was bigger than the other. She knew he wouldn’t be able to see much of anything, but his distorted vision tracked far quicker than she expected to her own face. He knew her; recognised her instantly; trusted implicitly that she would always be at his side; would always be there when he woke up. He gave her a vague attempt at his signature grin before letting his tired gaze fall from her face into a deep, exhausted sleep. 

In a panic, Laureline found his wrist with a grip that might have caused him pain had he been conscious. It reassured her that his heart was still beating. She breathed carefully in relief. He was still fighting. 

And the thought finally hit her hard; he was alive. Her vision blurred with both tears and a bone deep exhaustion that she hadn’t been aware of until that moment. She shivered and couldn’t stop shivering as her knees failed to hold her up right. She fell against the coffin’s side as her body gave out beneath her. 

The General was suddenly there, holding her upright against both himself and the coffin. There were others there too, men in uniform with the red cross insignia emblazoned across their forearms. The medics. 

One of them was talking to her but her ears felt as though they were stuffed with wool. She couldn’t focus on them either. She heard someone mention something about shock and keeping something warm. She didn’t care, she could only focus on Valerian… 

“He’s alive…” She found herself repeating, and she heard the General replying back. 

“I know Sergeant.” His voice rumbled against her as he held her up against his chest, supporting her body as it failed her completely until she sank into the bliss of unconsciousness herself. 

“I know.” 


End file.
